Thursday, August 27, 2009

I recently read Mikhail Bulgakovs novel about the devils visit to 1930's Moscow, and I really don't know what to think. It is undoubtedly a masterpiece, his portait of Yeshua Ha-Nozri (Иешуа га-Ноцри, Jesus the Nazarene) and Pontius Pilatus is eminent. But on the whole the piece is to political, to alegoric towards its time; and thus it has lost perhaps to much of its potence.

I, think, that while it is a worthwhile read for those especialy interested in Bulgakov, the era or somesuch; I'd advice the average reader not to seek it out - to only read it if the book crosses your path.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

My man Thom-Thom Billkowfskij's Guns, Girls and Ganja hath reached its #100 post! It is with the greatest hesitation I publish his one hundreth picture - but the girl is dressed, and I have no idea how they got the milk so thick or why she spilt it like this.

The blog bruceongames has written a link-rich critical article on the browser-mmo Evony ("Free Forever"). While issues like the marketing (there are no ladies in the game), the buggy gameplay and the producers links to WoW-goldfarming dont really consern me - the allegations that the game is malware, their notorious spamming of forums and emails, and a gameplay-model where you can sink almost unlimited amounts of money into the game to improve the character; all means Evony is a game you should stay away from.

Monday, August 24, 2009

I was a little paranoid in Lodz; my hosts fear of his city-brethren might have taken me unawares and I grew a beard in the middle of the summer. Just to look the part, really.

Even if Malmö is a scarier town than Lodz I go to the barber and get a haircut and a shave. A beard is really a winter or expedition thing. In Lodz there are ofcourse some badasses and fighting and whatnot, but in Malmö every other mådderfåkker I see seems to me a challenge.

The barber was a Macedonian turk, a talkative chap who cut my hair like a cartoon barber; hair flying in all directions. These guys really dont like the greeks who wants their Macedonia back even though it was never theirs - Macedonia Pwnd Greece so they should just let it be.

My father refuses to vote because the blank votes are counted with abstainees. If blank votes were counted he would vote; for nobody.

I take a somewhat more pragmatic view. While democracy obviously is quite barbaric, facistic and corrupt by its very nature; ignoring it is as stupid as ignoring an angry man waving a knife in your face. While I agree that it is a major democratic problem that blank votes are not counted or published with the rest of the parties; the damage the extreemist parties can do is to big to ignore - wheter they be right or left wing parties.

The left is a safe vote this year, as it has been for the last 70 years or so. They will only gain a few seats, and only have the power to give some small protection to labour-unions and the poorest in our society.

In the center/right there is only two parties worth voting for as they are the only guaranteeing that the Norwegian Facist Party (Frp) will not be in any gouvernment/cabinet. One is the Farmers Party who is in the current cabinet, and the other party is the Liberal Party.

Conservative newspaper Aftenposten writes about the hypotetical consequenses of implementing norwegian Facist Party (Frp)'s program on police and jail policy. Not unsurprisingly every single suggestion would lead to a more dangerous, americanized society. Even the cops themselves don't want to carry guns in this country. Making prisoners serve full time instead of 2/3 as we do now will not only be expencive, but academics and jailors both say it will lead to more crime since we loose our possibility to force anger managment classes and the like on prisoners the last 1/3 of their time.

This picture is taken by the closest pub to my fathers apartment. A noicy place for drunks and trash. I have no love of public arguments or loved ones yelling at eachother. But for some reason this place's customers frequently do.

I love that there now are pirates in the EU parliament. I wonder why not a single Norwegian party have dared to touch this issue, and why there is no such party as Piratpartiet in Norway. Our bondage is that much easier than the swedes?

Home, in the middle of the night, after a 12 hour workday. Even 2,1% Finkbraü kan taste amazingly at such a time.

We eat some food. Have a few glasses of wine. Talk for a few of hours every night he when he comes home from work.

He tells stories. Worries excessivly about telling the same story twice. Sometimes he does, but I love his anecdotal assosiative way of telling stories.

He say he newer knew his father, my grandfather. My father was born not long after the second great war, but what my grandfather did in the war noone knows. My honoured grandfather grew up in the 'poorest' area of Norway (it still is), fishing and farming - but also hunting in the mountains around Tysfjord - who happen to be the shortest bordercrossing to Sweden (I crossed the border starting from the bottom of the fjord a few years ago - very cool trip). He served in the army before the war, but after the war he refused further service and had to go to a work camp for a while.

Thus ended a long line of warriors. My fater was a pacifist; I served dutifully but never even considered becoming a solider.

Like his father he has lost almost no hair. He is a few years above sixty and Im starting to get a bald spot, hardly past my twenties. We both agree life is unfair. But what can you do?

The carpet was hiding the beautiful floor and had to be removed. It was old, syntetic, rotten; tore easily.

Still hard work though.

Father and son working together always feels good and natural.

And we went shopping in IKEA. This lamp was kind'o'cool.

The curtains got some critisism from one of his gay friends with an interest for patterns and antiques. But not much. Our recomendation of this retro forrest-style curtain was loved by papa, and even his friend had to aprove. Next item to be fixed is the lamp in the roof.

We left Lodz a few days early, dropping a planned trip to the ocean, to visit my father in Malmö. He lives in a old apartment close to Möllevangstorget: an excelent shopping, cafe and nightlife-district.

He has been fixing up the appartment since he moved in a few years back, and while Im sure the conditions would have been unlivable for many, the apartment has become steadily finer through the years and a sence of accomplishment lies within the walls.

My papa is one of the coolest guys I've ever had the pleasure of getting to know. So relaxed you hardly can feel that he is a worker close to the bottom our society. A traveler and scientist who lost it all on a gamle.

Always so self-reliant, so infused in his own ego he forgets the rest of the world; he still is a man with strong love for society, family, friends and lovers.

Its been a long time since I been at a concert with northern reagge band Manna; but last night I checked a couple of the guys DJing at the old Da Carlo club now dubbed Bjørk. Lots of oldschool stuff, but when I requested Sister Nancy he pretended to never have heard of her: as punishment I will feature Bam Bam by Sister Nancy in stead of Manna in this post.

But do check their homepage Mannafari - where you can listen to their album and order fan-stuff. Lyrics are in the northern tounge and are mostly about the greatness of Jah and the fuckedupness of Babylon. And here -> on Spotify!

[Edit March 02 2010; new version since the last one was "Removed due to violation of terms."